


Money Shot

by JKRobertson



Category: Bleach
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Age Difference, Aged up characters, Alternate Universe - Porn, Anal Sex, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/M, From Sex to Love, Gangbang, Lesbian Sex, Multi, Multiple Sex Positions, Orihime x multiple sex partners, Porn Addict, Porn Watching, Porn With Plot, Porn actor Ichigo, Porn director Kisuke, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Vaginal Sex, karakura gangbang, porn actor Chad, porn actor Uryu, porn addict Ulquiorra, porn star Orihime Inoue, porn studio au, ulquihime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24583999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JKRobertson/pseuds/JKRobertson
Summary: Twenty-seven year old Ulquiorra Cifer spends most of his time socially isolated and watching porn since quitting his job months ago.  Living on inheritance, he was satisfied with his rudderless life until a friend shows him a picture of adult film actress, Ginger Sparkles, aka Orihime Inoue, whose stunning performances - under the direction of Kisuke Urahara - inspire him to try to find a way to break into the industry and meet her.Porn Star/Porn Addict AU
Relationships: Inoue Orihime & Urahara Kisuke, Ulquiorra Cifer/Inoue Orihime
Comments: 54
Kudos: 35





	1. Ginger Sparkles

“Jesus,” Ulquiorra swore softly, letting the empty tissue box fall to the floor to join the collection of dirty tissues that littered it. He scoffed as he looked around, deep green eyes searching for something to clean the jizz off of his hand with. With a disgusted grimace, he wiped it on the leg of the dirty jeans he wore. That was it. No more porn today. At least, not right now. He needed to clean this mess up, change, replenish his tissues, and wash his clothes.

Although… Fuck it. His jeans were already filthy. May as well get them dirty again. 

Just as the nameless woman on the screen began whining her obscenities, and just as he started to get it up again, his door opened.

“Fuck, Cifer! I told you to lock the damn door!” the voice of his long-term roommate, Szayel Granz, groaned in disgust as the door slammed in a blur of thick-framed glasses and chin-length pink hair.

“You could just knock, asshole,” Ulquiorra muttered, frowning at his now-limp dick.

“When are you going to admit you have a problem?” Szayel shouted back through the closed door. “Oh, by the way, we’re going out tonight, so get out of your hole and get cleaned up.”

Ulquiorra sneered as he listened to footsteps walk away from the door. He knew Szayel was right. He did have a problem. He just didn’t care to fix it.

He also really didn’t want to go out. Szayel wasn’t the boss of him. Screw him. Ulquiorra clicked his mouse.

“Oh, oh, oh! Fuck! Yes, Fuck! Fuck me, baby! Oh!” the blonde was at it again, her fake tits bobbling unnaturally across her oiled chest as some dude held her leg at an awkward angle and pounded her into a massage table. Ulquiorra’s eyelids relaxed and his hand made its way back to his cock.

_ Bang! Bang! Bang!  _ “Ulq! Dude! The internet will still be here when we get back! Put it away and take a goddamned shower!”

The black-haired man growled and closed his internet browser. The only way he was getting out of that chair was if it was slightly less convenient to sink back into his pattern: watch, wank, wipe, repeat.

With a sigh, he pushed off his computer chair and pulled his boxer briefs back over his hips. Leaving his fly undone, he carefully tiptoed his way through the maze of crap on the floor, pausing as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

He’d looked better.

His once stylish hair had grown out to a shaggy mess that reached his shoulder blades at the longest part. It was dirty. He had thin patches of hair on his chin and lip. He looked and felt like he stunk. He was too pale and looked like he hadn’t slept in awhile. He looked a lot older than his twenty-seven years. With the snack crumbs on his hoodie and his jizz-stained jeans, he looked like a grotesque caricature of his former self. He found the reflection of his large, hollow eyes in the mirror and stared with an expressionless face for a long moment.

A large part of him wanted to sink back into that chair; to become one with it like the acrid smell of semen was becoming one with the carpet on the floor. However, he knew that if he did not leave this room soon, Szayel would be back, bitching at him more loudly than ever. With a sigh, he finally opened the door.

***

“Great work as usual, Orihime baby!”

The young woman pushed her long chestnut hair back over her shoulders and away from the ropes of cum on her breasts, then beamed a bright grin at the older gentleman. “Thank you, Mr. Urahara, this scene was a lot of fun!”

Adult film director, Kisuke Urahara, tipped his striped bucket hat back before he nodded once and smirked at his starlet. “You sure looked to be enjoying yourself. Not as much as Mr. Kurosaki and Mr. Sado did. I believe Mr. Ishida enjoyed himself, as well?” he asked, glancing over at the only clothed person on the cheap-looking bedroom set.

“I’d like it a lot better if you put me in a decent-looking suit, Kisuke,” the slim, dark-haired man muttered. “No one is going to believe I’m some kind of executive cuck in this Men’s Warehouse special.” 

“Oh, but you’re so convincing, Uryu,” Orihime cooed, walking - completely naked - over to her clothed co-star. She took the dark gray business suit coat as he shrugged out of it before passing it off to a tall, bespectacled man with cornrows. “Besides, I’m sure Tessai can tailor this for you for next time.”

“Oh, no. Didn’t you read the new script, Orihime?”

The woman turned her head towards the speaker; a nude man with an athletic body and bright orange hair. Ichigo Kurosaki, aka Jet Dicksworth, had amassed a bit of a fanbase and was her most constant leading man. “I haven’t yet, is it something new?”

“Well, yeah, you’re supposed to fuck all three of us.”

“At once?”

Messy orange hair waved up and down as Ichigo nodded. “Think you can handle it?” he asked with a smirk.

A good-natured scoff came from Orihime as she turned back to her director. “Mr. Urahara wouldn’t give me anything I couldn’t handle, would you?”

That bucket hat lowered to obscure his eyes in shadow. “I’d never dream of doing anything to damage my muse.”

***

“Oh Kisuke!” Orihime cried breathlessly, her cheek pressed into the much older man’s sweat-slick shoulder as she rose and fell on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck in affection. She was just about to cum.

“No, not yet, babygirl,” the man breathed, grasping the underside of her thighs and hoisting her up, walking them both over to bed in the darkened soundstage. He dropped her onto the springy surface and smiled, licking his lips as he watched the young woman’s full tits bounce and wave, the hard rosey nipples distracting him momentarily from his favorite part of her body; her velvet soft thighs and the pretty pink pussy between them.

It was no joke when he called her his muse. He was able to dream up all these scenarios and positions to film her in because she made him fantasize. The best part was, he had her under his spell, and she let him do anything he wanted. He could tell her how to please him or what to sound like or look like, and he got to experience first-hand the results of his artistic vision.

He reached down and grabbed her knees, pushing them up to her shoulders and then pinning them against the mattress, raising her ass off of it, and in effect putting her glistening slit just under his chin. His face tilted a bit as he appreciated its hot slick surface; the way her inner lips delicately curved like iris petals. He dipped his head and darted his tongue out, letting it lap up her sweet essence. His eyes fluttered closed as the now-familiar taste coated his tongue. It never failed to impress him that, despite having up to five different cocks in her on any given day, she always tasted so damn good.

“Okay, sweetheart, this is gonna hurt. Make sure you look right at me when it starts to feel good, alright?” 

Orihime whimpered and nodded. “Please, Kisuke, please give it to me.”

His self-satisfied smirk was her only answer before he lowered her hips slightly and rammed his cock back into her, thrusting hard and deep at a blistering pace.

Orihime’s eyes closed and she grimaced. He hadn’t been kidding. It hurt when the head of his dick hammered into her cervix. She cried out pained whimpers and squealed each time he punished her womb with a particularly hard thrust. But she knew she could trust him not to cause any lasting damage, and just as he predicted, after about a minute and a half, she could feel her walls start to close on him. Her eyes cracked open and she cooed, “Oh, baby, I’m gonna cum on you.”

“Open your eyes, Orihime. Let me see it. Don’t hold back,” Kisuke demanded, staring at her face, his own nostrils flared and lips tight as he fought back his own climax.

She did as she was told, her eyes opening into impossibly innocent saucers, her thick dark lashes amplifying the movement of her eyelids, both when they blinked and when they lowered slightly in pleasure. Her small mouth was open to allow her little moans and pants to push past her wet swollen lips. “Oh, oh, oh, Kisuke. Fuck me, please, I need it,” she begged in her sweet little voice.

“You’re such a good girl,” Kisuke said fondly as his hands tightened on her hips and he pulled her to him and groaned out, his eyes still locked on hers as he came. He stayed still inside her body as her walls fluttered and her legs wrapped around his ass, pumping to milk the very last bit of pleasure that she could from her employer.

When he was finished, he released her body and pulled his dick out, wiping it off onto a rag he had strategically placed nearby. “You never fail to provide me inspiration, Orihime, dear. You know you’re the reason I felt confident leaving Soul Society and striking out on my own.”

Orihime nodded and sat up, her limbs shaking. “Yes, you’ve said so many times, Mr. Urahara,” she said with a small smile while she tried to get her bearings and reached for another towel. “Do you have to get going right away?”

“Oh, yes, sadly. Yoruichi’s parents are coming into town this weekend and I have to help her rearrange the furniture. It’s also our twenty-second wedding anniversary. Can you believe I’ve been married that long?” he said with a cheery laugh.

“You must really love her, Mr. Urahara,” Orihime said in a wistful way.

“I do. Can I give her your regards?” the man asked, handing the younger woman his soiled rag and then pulling up his trousers.

“Of course!” Orihime replied, turning away from him and walking both soiled towels to a hamper.

Urahara watched her ass sway under her tiny waist as she moved, and a lazy smile stretched across his lips. He could not believe how lucky he was for a girl like Orihime to fall, quite literally, into his lap. She was perfection. And she made him a  _ lot _ of money. “Thank you, Orihime. Now if you wouldn’t mind cleaning all this up before you leave, I have to get going. Very busy!”

“Good night!” Orihime called after him. The soundstage door closed before she got the last word out.

She sighed and grabbed a robe before straightening the bed covers. She liked her job. She liked sex. She loved it, in fact. She even liked her co-workers. But she didn’t like this part of the day. The lonely part.

She had drifted apart from most of her old friends, being unable to lie convincingly, and unwilling to tell them what she did for a living. She was sure many of them might know about her secret identity, but because they didn’t say it out loud, they could maintain a kind of polite ignorance when they happened to cross paths in real life.

To combat the solitude, she would sometimes hang out with Ichigo, Chad, or Uryu after hours when she wasn’t providing inspiration to their boss. They had all been friends before meeting Urahara, anyway. And, for the most part, those guys were not very interested in after-hours sex with her, having worked with her for a couple years already. Not that they didn’t enjoy it, but it felt like work unless they had had a few drinks or something.

So, in order to fill the void left in her life, Orihime turned to the internet. She had a Snapchat. She had Instagram and Twitter. She had TikTok and Patreon and OnlyFans. She had a Discord server. She was able to connect with fans in a way that felt safe, and make some extra money out of it. Kisuke didn’t care. As long as his videos were selling, he considered her extra-curricular activities to be free advertising.

She glanced around the soundstage, and finding it tidy, redressed in the modest clothing she came to work in, locked up, and hopped on her moped. She stopped by a convenience store to get a hot dog and a sugary drink before going home, and when she arrived at her third floor apartment, she breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long day, and her hips were sore.

Maybe she should think about upgrading the moped for a real vehicle.

She fired up her laptop and set her food next to it, taking a bite and a sip before logging into her accounts.

***

“Ulquiorra! You made it!”

“Fuck off, Grimmjow,” Ulquiorra said quietly before turning his attention to the bartender. “Uh, Red Stripe, please,” he muttered, sliding a twenty dollar bill across the bar surface.

“Make that two,” Grimmjow said, throwing an arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. “So where have you been? Have you given any thought about coming back to work?”

“And give that rat shit Aizen the satisfaction? I think not,” Ulquiorra snarled, shrugging Grimmjow’s arm off. “I went out in a blaze of glory. I’m not going to waste it.”

“So you’ve found something else, then?” The question came from the opposite side, where their large mutual friend, Yammy, sat, drinking a relatively tiny pink cocktail.

Ulquiorra’s eyes zeroed in on the unexpected beverage and shook his head slowly. “I’ve been doing some day trading… What are you drinking, Yammy?”

“Oh, this? It’s cranberry juice and vodka. I had a nasty little kidney stone earlier this year. Want to keep the old pipes clean.”

Ulquiorra and Grimmjow both frowned at the oversharing of information. “Anyway,” Ulquiorra started, not exactly sure where he wanted the conversation to go. “Anything else new?” he asked in a bored monotone.

“Oh, yeah, Ulquiorra, I meant to show you this new cam girl I’ve been following. A real sweetheart. Figured since you’re still dating your hand you might like to use some help,” Yammy exclaimed with a roaring laugh.

“You think you are hilarious, don’t you, asshole?” Ulquiorra replied, completely unfussed. He rolled his eyes and nodded to the bartender, who set the bottles of beer in front of himself and Grimmjow without making any indication that he had overheard Yammy’s outburst.

Ulquiorra put his bottle to his lips and was prepared to dismiss the idea altogether, when the blue-haired idiot to his left had to open his fool mouth. “Okay, then, Yammy, let’s see,” Grimmjow said, leaning towards the bar and over Ulquiorra a bit.

Yammy chuckled as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and started tapping at it with his oversized thumb. “Just wait. You’re gonna love her. Angelic little face, perfect little waist for grabbing onto, T and A for days… Ah, here we go,” he muttered, his thumb’s activity halting as he began to turn his phone to face his two friends.

He paused. “Wait, ain’t you still with that green-haired chick?”

Grimmjow rolled his eyes. “Yeah, doesn’t mean I can’t look.”

Yammy shrugged and turned the phone the rest of the way. “There you go, boys. She does it all, too. Live solo shows, chats, pics by request, and studio porn.”

That got Ulquiorra’s attention. His green eyes narrowed in on the woman pictured on the small screen. It was just a still shot of a pretty young woman with reddish hair, standing on what appeared to be a backyard deck, and wearing nothing but a soaking wet, transparent t-shirt and posing with a bottle of beer.

Huh. It was a Red Stripe.

His eyes scanned the photo for any watermarks or identifying information. There wasn’t any that he could see. “What did you say her name was again, Yammy?”

“I didn’t, but since you’re so interested, it’s Ginger Sparkles. I’ll send you her Twitter, hold on,” Yammy said, turning the phone back towards himself.

“Oh, no, Yammy!” Ulquiorra’s roommate scolded as he came up to the group. “That is the last thing he needs. You should have seen the state of him when I opened--”

“Shut up now, Szay, if you value your own privacy,” Ulquiorra warned in low tones.

The pink-haired man rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Whatever. I just hope you know you’re contributing to his depravity.”

***

Ulquiorra bided his time. Szayel had gotten a few numbers. Grimmjow went home early when his girlfriend texted him some nudes and asked him to hurry back. Yammy had gotten drunk and thrown out of the bar for harassing a group of uninterested women. Finally, he saw his opportunity.

“Time to go, Pink Boy,” his voice droned quietly.

Szayel either didn’t hear him or ignored him, too engaged in conversation to reply.

“Ahem. Time to  _ go _ , Pink Boy!” Ulquiorra repeated in a sharper tone.

Szayel scoffed. “What the hell, Ulq, can’t you see I’m talking?”

Ulquiorra stared the other man down. “Can’t you see you’ll be walking home if you don’t wrap this up right now?”

Ulquiorra smirked slightly as his roommate huffed and turned around, offering his apologies to the people he was speaking with, then stomped past Ulquiorra towards the door.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Ulquiorra said as soon as they were outside.

“Says mister permanent boner. Why were you in such a hurry to leave?”

“I have to do some research.”

The resounding sigh could be heard across the street. “Are you fucking serious, Ulquiorra? Haven’t you rubbed the skin off of it by now!?”

Ulquiorra scowled and started marching towards his car. “As touching as your concern for my cock is, Szayel, I would appreciate you not making comments about it.” He cringed at his own word choice.

His roommate did not let the chance to ridicule him pass him by. He cackled out a wicked laugh. “Ulquiorra Cifer, I would not  _ touch _ you with my concern if you paid me. What the fuck? Ha ha!”

“Fuck you, Szay, you can walk home.”

***

Ginger Sparkles. Ulquiorra was glad that he stranded his roommate on the street in front of the bar. He needed to look this girl up and see what she was all about. Yammy hadn’t been lying. She was as sweet as candy to look at. Pretty. Natural-looking. A sweet, sweet little dirty girl.

By the time Szayel got back forty-five minutes later, bitching and hollering for an explanation, Ulquiorra was desperate. He heard his roommate’s complaints and ignored them, tumbling out of his bedroom with his sweatpants barely covering his ass. He had the look of a wildman in his deep green eyes as he grabbed Szayel by the shoulders and asked an exceptionally earnest question:

“How do I fuck a porn star, Szayel?”


	2. Go Big or Go Home

__harrrd469 asks: How did you lose your virginity?_

Orihime’s brows rose slowly at the question on the screen and her thoughts drifted inward, moving back to a simpler time in a smaller apartment, before she met Kisuke Urahara.

It had been just her back then, too.

They were unusual circumstances, for sure. What highschooler lived alone? 

Well, it wasn’t just her. Chad lived alone. None of her core group of friends had a mother. Uryu’s dad was a workaholic and emotionally unavailable. Ichigo’s dad was a weirdo.

But they were not the ones who started it. It was that hypersexual girl in their class who kind of coaxed them into it. Not that they had minded at all, but Chizuru had definitely been the ringleader.

It began a year after she started high school. She and her best friend at the time, Tatsuki, would often have study dates together or just hang out, eat, and watch television. Those were regular, wholesome get-togethers.

Things probably would have remained that way, had Tatsuki not gotten so busy with sports. And although they remained best friends throughout high school, Orihime never told Tatsuki what happened when Chizuru volunteered to come over after school and help her study for that history test while Tatsuki was at karate camp. 

“Orihime, would you look at something for me?” her new friend asked.

“Of course, Chizuru, what is it?”

“I think I have weird nipples,” the girl said, pulling her shirt off. She had no bra on underneath.

Orihime still remembered the way her face became hot at the other girl’s lack of modesty.

“So, do you think they’re weird?” Chizuru asked, getting closer and sticking her chest towards Orihime.

“Um, no, I think they look fine, Chizuru.” Orihime was nervous. This seemed weird. But she was aware that she didn’t mind looking at them, and after Chizuru rose her brows and gave the redhead and expectant glance, she looked down at the body parts in question, studying them more closely.

“You can touch them, you know,” Chizuru had said, her voice a bit breathier. “I think they are harder than most girls.”

Orihime shook her head in response. “They look totally fine to me. Mine look pretty much the same.”

“Really?” Chizuru seemed relieved and smiled at Orihime’s response. “Can you show me? I’m just so scared that mine are weird.”

Orihime looked into the other girl’s eyes. She seemed legitimately worried. Orihime inhaled slowly and nodded her head. “Um, okay,” she said before pulling her shirt off. 

After her bra came off, Chizuru had taken some time to really compare and contrast their breasts, at first by visual inspection and then fondling, comparing Orihime’s heft to her own, then nipple texture and height. At the end of it all, the visitor gave Orihime a long, tight, skin to skin hug, thanking her profusely for soothing her fears.

Orihime froze at first, but eventually returned the embrace and assured Chizuru that it was her pleasure, and that she would do anything to help a friend. 

That was true. She would. Her family had all died years ago, and although her aunt had legal guardianship and supported her financially, the woman lived far away, was not motherly, and did not want to remove her niece from her school and the people she knew, so she checked in by phone once in awhile, paid the bills, and called it a day. Orihime’s friends were all that she had for emotional support, and she would do anything to hold onto her bonds.

She didn’t really think anything special about how her new friend’s body was warm and made her skin tingle. She knew she liked this feeling, though. She didn’t want it to end.

Chizuru’s mother called, cutting their study session short. The girl redressed and asked Orihime if she could come over to do homework together again soon. 

Orihime was relieved to hear the offer and smiled as she redressed. “Of course! Please come back again any time!”

She did. Often. Each time the school work would be paused to “cuddle”. Often the cuddling was done in various states of undress.

But, soon afterwards, Tatsuki’s karate season was over, and she began to accompany Chizuru to Orihime’s apartment for study dates. The cuddling was no longer a thing. It made Orihime sad.

However, the next year, when karate season started up again, Orihime got a series of texts from Chizuru, indicating that she missed the physical contact and asking her to do it again. Orihime readily agreed.

It was awkward that time, though. They hugged when she came over, but it didn’t feel natural anymore. In the end they just studied and watched a show, and neither of them seemed happy about it. 

But Chizuru was resourceful. “Hey, Orihime, what would you say about getting some of your other friends to come over next time? You seem pretty lonely since Tatsuki has been busy,” she proposed.

Orihime agreed. The following Friday, Chizuru came over with Ichigo, Chad, and Uryu. They had pizza and watched a horror movie. They laughed and had a lot of fun. When they boys went home, Chizuru spent the night in Orihime’s bed. They snuggled like old times.

The next day, they met up with the guys at the mall and hung out all day. They ended up at Orihime’s apartment again for dinner. This time, Chizuru had an idea.

“Let’s play truth or dare!”

Orihime laughed hard watching Chad and Uryu kiss awkwardly. She bit her lip and felt uncomfortable when Chizuru stripped down to her underwear for a round. Everyone took it a bit easy on her. It helped that she kept choosing truth.

Chizuru wouldn’t let her get away with it all night though. “Ichigo, I dare you to kiss Orihime.”

So he did. And she liked it.

The next weekend the fivesome got together again, and then again the weekend after that. They started hanging out as a group for the entire weekend, often with the guys spending the night in the living room while the girls went to Orihime’s room. Nobody’s parents cared. 

About a month into this, Chizuru again pushed the envelope. “Orihime, I dare you to flash your boobs at us.”

She did, and she laughed. She didn’t notice how the boys became a bit more focused.

Later in the evening, it was her turn again. “Dare.”

“I dare you and Ichigo to go into your room and strip naked and stay that way for five minutes.”

Two gingers’ cheeks turned red. “Are you okay with that?” Ichigo asked Orihime quietly.

Orihime nodded and took his hand, leading him to her room. “It’s fine,” she said before closing the door.

Once the door was closed, Ichigo thought he had better be a gentleman. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We can just lie,” he said, looking around Orihime’s room. When he looked back to her, he realized his words were too late. She was standing at the foot of her bed, naked apart from the socks on her feet.

Ichigo swallowed a lump in his suddenly dry throat. “Okay,” he whispered, then his clothes came off.

They stood there, looking at each other, Orihime watching as his dick grew and rose, almost appearing to reach out in a greeting. She smiled. “It’s cute,” she said.

“Cute?” Ichigo was offended. 

“Well, yeah, it’s like it wants to shake hands.”

Ichigo looked terrified, but his teenaged, hormone-riddled mind betrayed him. “You can shake it if you want.”

Orihime giggled, closing the distance between them and wrapping her soft fingers around his shaft, stroking it gently. “Nice to meet you,” she said, then smiled up into Ichigo’s face.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured before his lips were on hers and his hands were on her tits. They were on her bed the next minute. By the time Chizuru was knocking on the door, Ichigo’s cock was rasping against Orihime’s slit, although he hadn’t penetrated her.

That would happen a week later. They barely lasted that long, the memory of what happened in her darkened bedroom fueling their heated glances.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered when she winced and a quiet squeak came out of her nose.

“No, it’s okay, it feels good,” she said. 

It did. She liked it. She wanted to do it again. She wanted to do it all the time. When she missed her period, she mentioned it to Ichigo like it was a good thing. They wouldn’t have to take five days off.

“Oh my god, Orihime…” Ichigo was terrified. His father was a physician, though, so he brought her to his clinic. Isshin had her pee into a cup and gave her the talk that she should have had with a parent. He sighed in relief when the test came back negative.

“Are two in love?” he asked them.

They didn’t know, but the tone of Isshin’s voice made them feel like they had better answer the right way. “Um, I think so?” Orihime answered.

The older man sighed again. “I’m going to write you a prescription. Make sure you take these at the same time everyday. No exceptions.”

Later that night, Orihime and Ichigo had a talk. They weren’t dating. They weren’t in love. They were good friends and they cared deeply about each other, but not more than they cared about their other friends.

Still, it was confusing. If their friendship was no different, why were they keeping their sexual activity secret and separate from the others? That had to change.

The next time Chizuru and the boys came over, there was no sneaking off to bedrooms. There was no one-on-one. Their exclusive high school orgy club was a non-sanctioned extracurricular activity, but one that the participants enjoyed greatly, until Chizuru realized she didn’t like sharing Orihime with the boys, and that she was definitely _not_ interested in sharing herself with the boys, either. She found herself a girlfriend and never returned, while the other four continued their friendship with benefits.

Orihime shook her head and blinked a few times, returning to the present. She still had a question waiting for her. These people waiting online had paid a monthly fee to enjoy question and answer sessions with her.

_GingerSparkles: It was with my dear friend, Jet Dicksworth! Small world, isn’t it?_

***

Szayel removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Ulquiorra, what are you talking about?”

“I’m serious, Szay. I need to know. It’s imperative that I meet Ginger Sparkles.”

A semi-dignified snort followed. “Do you know how absolutely crazy you sound?”

“Yes. I don’t care.”

Szayel took a deep breath and a step back. “Well I don’t fucking know, you weirdo. I guess if you want to fuck a porn star, you have to be one. So start working out, dude, because nobody wants to see your spider limbs wobbling around while you try to pork some glitter-encrusted cum dumpster.”

“Don’t call her that. She’s more than that.”

“What is with you?” Szayel had never heard him talk like this. “Was there something in your beer?”

“No.” Ulquiorra shot his roommate a hard stare before closing himself back up into his bedroom. Szayel would never be able to understand. He cared more about things like upward mobility and social status than genuine connections.

This Ginger Sparkles had connected with him. She didn’t know it yet, but she had. He had paid the monthly fee to get access to the Urahara Studios archive, and had been watching since he got home. 

The woman was perfect. Her body was perfect. Her face was perfect. Her voice was perfect. Her moves were perfect. But the thing that hooked him, the thing that had him whimpering for more after his first load, was the way she stared through the camera lens and into his soul as she came.

He needed it. The thought that it might be impossible filled him with anxiety.

Ulquiorra’s door opened again. “Which gym do you go to?”

Szayel set his glass down on the kitchen counter and looked over at his roommate slowly. “Ari’s. I don’t want you to come to my gym. Call Yammy,” he said with a frown on his face.

Ulquiorra’s door slammed shut. He called Yammy and agreed to meet him the next day, then turned back to his computer. It had Urahara’s website up, video paused on Ginger Sparkles’ breasts and cheek pressed into the seat of a sofa. Her delicate fingers dug into the blue microfiber surface as she bit her plush bottom lip. That was all erotic, but it wasn’t what drew Ulquiorra’s attention. His deep, hollow eyes were drawn to hers; her expressive, midnight eyes that seemed to tell him that it was his attention - not the little guy behind her - that was causing her such excruciating pleasure. 

He unpaused the video and studied her as she finished her mewling. The camera backed away from her face and for a moment, it showed a glimpse of the actor she was with.

This was not one of her regularly featured partners. This guy looked familiar.

The thought occurred to him to ask his roommate, but he thought better of it. There was no need to deal with Pink Bitch anymore tonight. He took a screenshot instead and sent it to his phone. Maybe Yammy would know. He was the one who introduced him to Ginger Sparkles, anyway.

It had been a bit of a long night. Ulquiorra put his PC into hibernate mode and got into bed, scrolling through Ginger’s Twitter and her other links, eventually falling asleep with his phone in hand.

He woke up the next morning and stayed in bed until after he heard Szayel leave for work. When he finally got out of bed, he went to make himself a cup of coffee and stared out the window, momentarily distracted from his new obsession. 

There was a reason he preferred to stay in his room and escape into fantasy. Most of his friends either worked or had worked for his former employer, Sousuke Aizen. The guy was a total asshole, and Ulquiorra did not like to be reminded of the man’s existence. His friends kept bringing up shit that happened at the office and whatever kind of scam Aizen was trying to pull this month, only to have it fail and then take credit for whichever poor sack-of-shit employee pulled a magical solution out of his or her ass. “It’s all according to my plan,” Aizen would say.

He had said that one too many times to Ulquiorra. He used to be Aizen’s favorite. No matter what ill-advised venture Aizen involved himself in, Ulquiorra was always there, staying late and busting his ass, pressuring his subordinates to do the same, in order to save face for the company, and ultimately, for Aizen.

The last time was one time too many. Aizen had promised a client something that everyone knew was impossible to deliver. Ulquiorra and his team had pulled a miracle, exhausting all of their time and resources, to make an acceptable delivery on Aizen’s promise. Ulquiorra had even dipped into his own personal funds to get some more people to work on the project from his home and have a presentation ready to go when the big day came.

Ulquiorra gave the presentation. The numbers were there. The prototype performed well. The only issue was that the materials were on backorder. The client would have to either wait for the desired materials, make a modification, or present a beta-version of their product to hit the market on their desired launch date.

Normally this would have been fine. Normally, his efforts would have been appreciated. Normal didn’t have a place in Aizen Industries.

Aizen let Ulquiorra take the fall. He reemed Ulquiorra out in front of the clients and his coworkers. Aizen screamed that Ulquiorra had assured everyone that the materials were available, when the opposite was true. He made Ulquiorra personally apologize to the clients and stole credit for all of his efforts until that point.

Ulquiorra had had enough. He recalled how he had, with a blank expression on his face, slowly loosened his teal tie and slapped his boss across the face with it, then dropped it at his feet and calmly raised the middle finger on both of his hands up in front of Aizen’s stupid, smug face.

Security removed him from the building a few minutes later, a string of uncharacteristic obscenities being shouted, announcing to his soon-to-be former colleagues that he was on his way out. A box of his personal belongings followed. Ulquiorra had never looked back.

That had been ten months ago. In a show of mild solidarity, Yammy quit a week after Ulquiorra. Yammy had been on Ulquiorra’s team at Aizen Industries, and honestly, the only reason he had still been employed there was because Ulquiorra pulled his weight for him. He now worked private security, a job to which his size and demeanor were much better suited.

Ulquiorra dallied a bit, rinsing off in the shower and eating a light breakfast before he made his way to the gym to meet Yammy.

***

“Okay, Ginger, you’re going to play a bored housewife, married to Colin,” Kisuke’s production assistant, Jinta, told her before turning to “Colin”. Colin Fitswell was Uryu’s stage name. “You are going to come home to find her fingering herself while watching the poolboy and the gardener out the window. Then you’ll go outside and invite the help to come, and, uh, _help_.”

“I assume he’s the poolboy?” Uryu asked, pointing to Ichigo, who was dressed in white shorts and a polo shirt and visor.

“Yeah, Jet is the poolboy, Don is the gardener,” the assistant replied, glancing at Chad, aka “Don Hardon”.

“So, am I going to be horny and just ask them to join me, or is my _husband_ ,” she said with a chuckle and a sly smile to Uryu, “going to take the lead?”

Kisuke approached the group then, and stepped in front of Orihime, adjusting the silk robe she wore, cupping and lifting her breasts a bit through the smooth fabric. “He’ll make a suggestion, and you, my dear, will just be your alluring self. Neither your husband nor your help will be able to resist your charms,” he purred at her before leaning forward and kissing the tip of her nose.

No one noticed Jinta’s eyebrow twitch or the note he took on his clipboard.

“Right, places everyone! This first scene runs from Uryu coming through the door and seeing Orihime. He’ll watch her and jack off for a bit, then leave out the back door,” Urahara called out as he situated himself in a director’s chair beside Ururu, who ran the first camera. Tessai ran a second camera closer to Orihime’s spot on a sofa next to the window in the living room set. “Orihime, do you need any lube?”

“No, just give me a second,” she said sweetly, settling on the sofa cushions,adjusting her robe so that the swells of her ample breasts were on display, and raising one leg up. She brought her right hand down between her legs and started to caress herself. She didn’t take long to respond; she had always been sensitive and responsive. Besides, she was excited about the next scene. She had never taken all three of her friends at the same time before, and she was looking forward to it.

She dipped one finger and then another into her entrance, biting her lip, her body lurching as little sparks of pleasure zipped through her body. Before she knew it, she heard Kisuke call cut and Jinta came up to her with a wet towel for her fingers. Ururu moved her camera around and Kisuke and Tessai adjusted a few lights, and then her co-stars entered the room. 

“Are you still wet and ready, Orihime?” the director asked.

“I am,” she said. 

“Alright. Action.”

***

Chad lay underneath her, pounding her pussy and sucking on one of her tits, while Ichigo knelt behind her, balls deep in her ass. Uryu had a knee up on the arm of the sofa, and Orihime’s glossy pink lips were wrapped around the head of his cock. Of all her friends, she enjoyed sucking Uryu’s dick the best. It was a nice size for it; not too girthy to make her jaw ache, but large enough to make it feel like she was doing something. 

The two large cameras got angles of the entire scene and the penetration from behind her. Kisuke worked with a handheld camera, zooming in close to Orihime and Uryu, getting shots of their flushed faces, fighting not to succumb too soon to the pleasure they were both feeling.

Orihime loved her friends. She truly did. When one of her hands slid up Uryu’s ribs and pulled on his ass, pushing him deeper into her mouth, her dark brown eyes locked onto his face and narrowed in affection.

“Fuck, Honey, I’m gonna come,” Uryu warned her under his breath, his long, thin fingers working their way into her hair and grabbing a handful before he grunted and emptied his load into her mouth.

“Whenever you’re ready, boys,” Urahara encouraged quietly as Orihime gagged softly, the hand that had been on Uryu’s ass coming to her mouth, catching the semen that dribbled out of the corner as she showed off his load for the camera, then played with it a bit between her fingers before swallowing. 

“Thank you,” she cooed to Uryu as he took a seat on the arm of the chair, watching the other two men enjoy his on-screen wife’s body.

Her attention then turned to the sensation between her legs. Ichigo had just pulled out of her ass and shot his load over her back. Urahara scowled; he had almost missed the money shot. He then hissed to Ichigo, “Pull her up by the elbows and help her ride the gardener.”

Ichigo followed the direction, pulling Orihime up, her nipple popping out of Chad’s mouth with a loud suction noise, the wet nipple trailing a line of saliva from his mouth for half of the journey.

Chad’s hands found Orihime’s waist and he held her in place as he braced his feet and pounded up into her at a brisk pace.

“Oh, I’m gonna cum,” Orihime whined, her eyes closing as she felt her entrance start to tighten. Ichigo reached his left arm through her left elbow and grabbed her right elbow with that hand, using his newly freed right hand to paw at her tit and manipulate her nipple while he kissed her neck.

That was it. It was going to happen. Chad was grunting underneath her; he wasn’t going to last long, either.

“Look at me, Hime. Don’t forget to look,” Kisuke whispered, zooming in on her face.

She obeyed, opening her eyes and her lips at the camera as the first of many moans of pleasure filled the studio.

***

“Oh, yeah, I remember that guy! We went to high school with that little prick. Rico Thruster, though?” Yammy shook his sweaty head as he looked at the screenshot on Ulquiorra’s phone. “His real name was porny enough.”

Ulquiorra frowned. He could not recall this Mr. Thruster’s name or connection to either of them. “What was his real name?”

“Ggio Vega”.

Ulquiorra looked to the side, struggling to recall the name.

“Remember? He came in second in state lightweight for wrestling… Nnoitra called him “Vag-face Vega”...” Yammy prodded.

It was their former friend’s nickname for the poor fellow that jogged his memory. “Right… Do you happen to have his contact information?”

“What do you want with old Vag-face?” Yammy asked Ulquiorra much too loudly.

The shorter man closed his eyes and counted backwards from five. Nobody at this gym knew him. When he reopened his eyes, he shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just curious to ask him how he got into porn acting. It seems like such an unorthodox career choice.”

“Yeah, I’m friends with him on Facebook. I’ll send him your contact info,” Yammy said, throwing another weight onto the machine Ulquiorra was using. “You’ll never bulk up using that little weight. Go big or go home, Ulquiorra.”

Those same words ran through his mind for the rest of the day. Later that evening, he logged onto Facebook for the first time in ages. He really disliked social media when it came down to it, only using it as a way to get information. He smirked when he saw the brand new friend request from one Mr. Ggio Vega.

_Go big or go home._

“Dear Mr. Vega:

As you are aware, I spoke to Yammy about you today. I recently watched a short adult film in which you gave a wonderful performance with Ginger Sparkles, and thought I recognized you. My purpose in reaching out is to talk with you about the industry, as someone who is interested in getting his foot in the door. Any information you would be willing to share with me would be greatly appreciated, and if you are interested, I would be glad to meet in person to discuss same.

Thank you in advance for your kind consideration.

Best regards,

Ulquiorra Cifer”

Okay, so it was overly stiff and formal. So was Ulquiorra. Oh well.

It wasn’t long before he got a response.

“Yooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Ulq Cifer! No fuckin’ way! This is a blast from the past. Well, I think for just about anyone else to recognize me and call me out, it might have been awkward. But since you’re the king of awkwardness, I guess it really doesn’t matter. Anyway, I’m a busy guy, but I’d love to meet and catch up and tell you whatever you want to know. How about drinks at Charlie’s tomorrow around 9? You’re buying. LMK!”

Ulquiorra replied immediately, agreeing to the invitation. The only thing he had to do between then and now was make a list of everything he wanted to know.

It was a big list. Go big or go home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think/question my sanity in the comments. You can also find me [here on Tumblr](https://jkrobertson.tumblr.com/) or [here on Twitter](https://twitter.com/EivJkr/)


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